Say the Magic Word
by Juniper Night
Summary: Raven's got a problem; her powers are getting weaker, and her magic words seem to have lost their magic. What's a poor half demon to do? Special guest appearance at the end of the first chapter.
1. Presto Change-o!

**A/N – Let it not be said that I did not provide fair warning; Thou art about to read the crack-iest fic I have ever written. **

**Alright, so technically it isn't a legit crack-fic (I am not under the influence of any chemical substance, and have no reason to believe that a mystical life-form with a sense of humor possesses me at this moment) but still… **

**-1(Claimer:) I don't own any catch phrases or TT characters featured in the content of this fanfic. **_**Nada para Nadie**_**, you hear?**

**)o(**

Raven growled as the shouting and whooping and general ruckus of the three boys on the team nearly knocked her out of the air _again_. Honestly, it seemed harder and harder to focus these days, not just while she was meditating, but in combat as well. Sighing heavily, Raven massaged her brow with one hand while the other waved in the general direction of the kitchen. The kettle, tea mug, and tea bags, all surrounded in obsidian energy, floated listlessly out of their places to converge on the counter by the stove top.

Raven trudged towards the kitchen at a snail's pace, feeling oddly drained. When she got there, she filled the kettle with water from the tap, and telekinetically lifted the heavy object, mentally pushing it towards the stove. Her brow furrowed; had the kettle always been so heavy? And what was that incessant vibrating in the back of her skull?

Halfway to the stove the kettle fell.

Raven stared as metal clanged on ceramic, denting the kettle and spilling water everywhere. The other four Titans, attracted by the loud metallic crash, poked their heads into the room at that moment.

"Everything all right?" Robin called from the other side of the Great Puddle.

Raven shook her head weakly in disbelief. "My powers…" she croaked.

"Please, there is something wrong with them?" Starfire asked, her concern evident on her face as she hovered above the Isle of Pot.

In answer, Raven directed her attention at a stray pen on the counter. Under her less-than-glowing gaze it developed a faint gray aura and rolled a little, before stopping several centimeters short of the edge.

"Dude…" Beast Boy breathed.

"And your mantra isn't helping? Have you tried any other words?" Robin tried. Raven shook her head, a wisp of hope flickering within frightened doe eyes.

"Titan, _Grassor!_" Raven cried. Nothing happened.

"Abadda ke Dabbra!" Still nothing.

"To infinity, and beyond?"

"Up, up, and away? Great Hora? May the force be with you?"

Raven was growing desperate. "Hocus Focus? Necronahm Hezberek Mortix?"

"…Thwip?"

Raven was not the only one to stare in open-mouthed shock at the gossamer strand which shot itself from the base of her palm to alight on a fire sprinkler on the ceiling. She yanked, and the brittle metal contraption broke off, spewing water everywhere.

"Joy." Raven muttered faintly.

)o(

In the streets of New York, Peter Parker - known in the public eye as Spider-man - was currently being lectured upon by the appropriately named and suitably enraged Nick Fury about his recent poor performance in battle. His superior's tirade was interrupted, however, when a nearby fire hydrant suddenly turned black and exploded. Fury stopped mid-sentence to stare first at the jagged remaining half of what had been an innocent fire hydrant, and then at the receding black aura around his most recent recruit.

"Erm - was that me?"

Nick scowled and adjusted his wet, crooked eye patch. "Teenagers…" he growled to himself.

)o(

Somewhere, in a place deep beneath the Earth yet on a separate dimensional plane, Trigon was laughing. In his fiery lair, he cackled triumphantly. It had taken the last of his energy, but at least he had had the last word. Smiling evilly to himself, Trigon submitted himself to slumber...

)o(

**A/N – Oh Nick, I have no idea how you got to be where you are, but you seem to be good at it. **_**Grassor**_** is Latin for go/attack/etcetera, by the way.**

**I found this amazing quote! See?**

"_**From my close observation of writers...they fall into two groups **_

_**1) those who bleed copiously and visibly at any bad review, and **_

_**2) those who bleed copiously and secretly at any bad review**_**." - Isaac Asimov**

**Don't know who he is, but he's right... sadly. Still, don't be afraid to tell me if it sucks - just be sure to use supporting detail.**


	2. Strange Happenings

_**Atención!**__** I'm very sorry I haven't been able to post much lately (escuela es muy loca, ¿no?) Chapter 1 now has an extended ending! If you have not read chapter 1 since before November 11, 2012 then GO BACK AND READ IT! Or totally ignore this note. Whatever. Thank you, have a magical day!**_

Peter stalked through the hallways of Midtown High. His eyes were steely, his brows were unknowingly furrowed, and there was a certain force to his steps. Peter just couldn't get over his frustration after… whatever had happened yesterday. It had been over a year since he'd been bitten by that radioactive spider and assumed his secret identity. It'd been several months since he'd been initiated into S.H.I.E.L.D, and then formed the team with Ava, Danny, Luke, and Bucket-head. And now, suddenly, it was as if the time on the parking meter was up, and his powers had been towed.

"Hey, Puny Parker! I think there's something missing from your locker – You!" Midtown's biggest jock (and jerk,) Flash Thompson, was standing next to Peter's locker waiting for him to arrive - as usual. "It's Locker-Knocker time!" Flash bellowed, cracking his knuckles intimidatingly. His expression was one of anticipation, as though he hadn't done this to Peter almost every day since third grade.

Peter met Flash's alacrity with a blank stare; he knew he ought to act scared for his cover's sake, but the fact was that he'd faced far worse, and today he simply couldn't bring himself to pretend otherwise. He felt oddly detached for some reason, as though his emotions were all on vacation.

Under this uncharacteristically dead glare, Flash Thompson felt an equally uncharacteristic squirm of discomfort. After a few moments of meeting his gaze, Flash turned away.

"Sheesh, Parker. You didn't have to go all emo on me…"

Peter ignored the comment and got what he needed from his locker. For some reason he was _really _looking forward to going home, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Aunt May had yoga, so the house would be empty and quiet, something he usually hated unless he was out super-heroing - which he couldn't exactly do with his powers acting so strangely. However before he could leave, four more familiar faces appeared besides his locker.

"Yo, Pete! Nick wants to see you," His friend Luke, aka Power Man said. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he added, "you know, about your new powers."

"Tell him I can't make it to training tonight," Peter muttered, glaring at a random scuff mark on the tile floor.

"Ooh, you sure about that, Petey? Nick doesn't like it when we skip," Sam, the 'human rocket' Nova, sang. He really was a bucket-head sometimes...

"I know," was all Peter replied with.

"You remember what happened the last time we skipped, right? He made us -"

"I_ know_!" he erupted without warning. Sam jumped and automatically assumed a defensive position as the light directly above them exploded.

"Uh, what was _that_ all about?" Luke asked as all four friends stared at the rapidly retreating back of their normally amiable leader.

"The road to enlightenment is lined with confusion," Danny said, speaking just as sagely in this alias as his superhero one, Iron Fist.

"Uh-huh…" Oddly enough, that explanation didn't ring true to Ava, or White Tiger. Spotting Mary Jane across the hall, Ava caught the redhead's eye and silently posed the question: '_Do you know anything about this?'_

Ava received a shrug; evidently MJ was just as in the dark as Ava was.

)o(

As soon as he got home, Peter despondently flopped on the bed. He felt bad about blowing up at his team like that; he hadn't _meant_ to lash out. He'd felt really off since these new powers had developed. At first he'd wondered if Doctor Octopus had developed some sort of new, delayed-reaction symbiote, but he'd tested clean at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s laboratory. Now he was beginning to feel like he was someone else - like his _powers _were someone else's. And if he had someone else's powers, maybe they had his? It was just a hunch, but suddenly he had to contact this other person... after he identified him.

_'Well, nothing like the world-wide web to tell you what you need to know... ugh, I never thought I'd regret an arachnid-based pun'_ he thought.

Peter brought his old, secondhand laptop over from its place on the desk, and returned to the bed. It took a while for it to start, but finally he reached the Google search engine and he typed in 'black energy superpowers.'

The page took it's time loading, but that was alright; _I'm feeling lucky,_ he thought to himself. A few more seconds and... the search results had loaded! He scanned the page, eager to find out who potentially had his powers - and his face fell. His search had yielded only results about the types of super powers, not the superheroes who had them. So he tried again - superheroes with black superpowers - and resisted the urge to face palm; he hadn't meant to search for black superheroes*.

This wasn't working; he needed a new search term - what had the search before called it? He went back to the search results before. Hmm, 'darkforce manipulation.' It sounded like something he'd find in one of his comic books, but he tried it anyway - and alas, there was what he was looking for! He clicked the link to a list of super heroes with the ability to manipulate darkness, and felt his jaw go slack. Ninety-six results? _Well,_ he thought, _I'll just have to look at all of-_

_**Ping!**__ Virus detected, virus detected, virus detected, reboot required..._

Peter was growling to himself in frustration when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The contents of his bedroom had levitated off the ground and were drifting lazily around, though as he watched they were picking up speed.

What if they wrecked his room again? What if they just kept spinning faster and faster? What if they were still moving like this when Aunt May came home? As sometimes happened when he was panicking, a small voice of logic piped up in the back of his brain. Now was one of the few times he decided to listen to it, as it insisted that he _calm down_. How was he supposed to do that? What was calm? Zen, yoga – Monks! They were calm, right? So how did they become calm?

"Ohm… Ohm..." The objects span faster. The few objects that weren't covered in the strange obsidian energy were being picked up by the wind, and Peter had to keep brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"Okay, okay! Something else! Umm… Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium …" The non-energy covered objects started to drag.

"Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen…" The edges of his bedding returned to their normal state of limpness.

"Fluorine, Neon, Sodium, Magnesium…" The wind was dying down to a breeze. His hair stopped getting in his eyes.

"Aluminum, Silicon, Phosphorus, Sulfur, Chlorine… " The objects were completely still.

"Argon." Everything was, once again, obeying the laws of physics – and from exactly the same spots that they had originally occupied no less.

Peter Parker collapsed into the pillows, completely exhausted. Part of him knew he should resume his search for whoever these powers were supposed to belong too – and he would. After a nap.

)o(

Raven woke up with a jolt.

Roughly, she shoved the covers off of her, and got up, fastening her cloak as she left the room. As she made her way to the Ops room, she tried to remember everything she had seen in her dream - or vision, rather.

So Trigon was behind this. Somehow, she wasn't surprised. Oh, he wouldn't be coming back anytime soon – the small act of magic involved in switching her powers with this 'Spider-Man' had drained whatever power he still possessed and would probably add another half-century to his imprisonment. Still, an extra fifty years was no doubt worth the entertainment this knowledge of her suffering would bring him, especially when compared to what could have been centuries of sulking over his defeat by the 'little girl' whom he _allowed_ to survive.

Trigon had to have the last word. He was like an angry toddler that way.

Raven sighed, filled the kettle, and placed it on the stove, before reaching for her favorite mug - but her mug was too high; she kept it on the top shelf so that Beast Boy wouldn't use it for soymilk-based hot chocolate.

"Azara-" aaand that wasn't going to help her very much. '_What was it I did before?'_

With her tongue sticking out and to the side in concentration, Raven carefully rearranged her hand just the right way and- _Thwip! - CRASH!_

Raven tentatively uncovered her face with her arms, and peeked at the broken shards of what had once been Robin's favorite red mug.

"Uh, oops," She muttered. With a prolonged sigh, she resigned herself to sweeping up the pieces. When that was done, she opened the secret panel Cyborg had installed behind the toaster. They had learned early on that Robin was very particular about his morning routine, and he hadn't responded well to Starfire's accidently melting his mug with some Tamaranean beverage. Even Beast Boy knew that if it had been anyone but Starfire, the unlucky Titan would have had to listen to Robin shouting for a half hour before being assigned extra training – which was why Cyborg had created the secret panel shortly after the team had formed, and stocked it with identical plain red mugs. Raven sometimes wondered if the protégé to the world's greatest detective knew or even suspected how many times his mug had been replaced. There would be no question as to whether he suspected or not, however, if she didn't get the replacement mug up on that accursed top shelf. Even if she could aim correctly, 'thwip' was only good for pulling, not pushing.

With no other options, Raven boosted herself onto the counter (Cyborg would kill her if he saw her now,) and with one hand on the next cabinet for balance, she carefully replaced Robin's mug before taking her own. She was about to climb back down, when she realized that her once-free hand seemed oddly attached to the door of the cabinet.

Raven tugged on her hand, but it did not move. She pulled with every ounce of the strength she had gained from training, and still her hand would not budge from the now-open cabinet door. Raven set down the mug in frustration, and used her other hand to keep the stupid cabinet door still, but then_ that_ hand became stuck too!

"Great," Raven growled sarcastically, as a strand of hair fell in front of her eyes to complete her feeling of annoyance. Out of habit, she moved to swipe the irritating lock of hair, when she remembered that both her hands were stuck – except that now, the hand that had gotten stuck first was free!

_'What in the name of Azar?'_

Raven studied her hand suspiciously; there were no traces of any adhesive, but there had to be something… There! On the pads of her fingers, where before there had been only skin, she could see tiny hook-like fibers.

This time, instead of pulling, Raven pushed her hand upwards. You'd never have guessed her hand had been as good as xenothiumed to the wall just seconds before, the way it simply slid off the cabinet.

Her hands once again free, Raven quickly hopped off the counter op. The water was ready by then, so she poured it into the mug, dumped the tea bag (which thankfully _was_ within reaching distance) in there as well, and hastily left the kitchen.

She needed to talk to this Spider-Man, and learn how to control his powers, at least until she could get her own powers back. In the meantime, she needed to find out exactly what he could do besides shoot bits of webbing.

)o(

Even in sleep, it seemed that Peter could not focus on anything besides his new powers. His dreams didn't seem to make any sense. He was in a place that looked somewhat like the meeting room in the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, but different somehow. At first he, dressed as Spider Man, was alone at the table, but as other people trickled in, he found that they weren't his teammates or S.H.I.E.L.D. agents; they were himself.

As soon as he came to this realization, one of them - him? - collapsed into a chair. "This is hopeless!" this new, drab, gray version of Spider-Man proclaimed, before bursting into tears.

"Man up!" an angry all-red version of him shouted, slapping the sobbing one upside the head - which of course only made him cry harder.

Suddenly a dark green one pounced onto the table. "I'm the hero, so I say we find whoever messed with our powers and give them the old one-two!"

By this point the original Spider-Man had decided that the only scientific explanation was that these were all poorly created clones.

"The only hero in this room is me. " He growled. "Who created you? Doc Oc?"

"Yo mama!" A disgustingly cheerful pink Spider-Man giggled.

Beside him a yellow clone rolled his eyes behind a pair of wire framed spectacles.

"We both know how improbable _that_ would be." Yellow Spectacle-Man said condescendingly. "Think - you've only been Spider-Man for a year, not enough time to create a stable clone your age, let alone seven of them.

"Then what am I supposed to think? That you're all magical illusions in my head?"

A brown Spider-Man drifted over to where they stood then, and the way he held himself reminded Peter very strongly of Danny. This idea was only strengthened when he opened his mouth:

"We are all inside your head, but who's to say that we are merely illusions?"

)o(

Peter woke up tangled in his sheets and slick with sweat. For a while he just sat there, steadying his breathing. When he finally felt calm enough to attempt sleep again, he let his head flop on the pillow, and thought wistfully of the good ole days, when there were only two extra voices in his head.

**A/N: This was originally intended to be a one-shot, but like many of my stories, it obviously isn't anymore. However now that there's so much more Spiderman in this, should I place it in the Crossover section (where no one will ever find it...) or should I just leave it where it is?**

**I'm not gonna lie; I got the idea of replacing Robin's mug from **_**Oswald**_**. Ya know, the little kids show about the blue octopus whose got a wiener dog and is friends with a daisy and a penguin? Yeah, that Oswald :)**

***This was not at all intended to be racist or anything; these are based on the actual results I got from searching these search terms on Google**** ****For the record, I myself use a mix of Bing, Google, and Ask; Google just seems like the biggest of the three. I am not imposing my opinions on Peter Parker. Meh, too much political correctness...**

**Also, I've never seen Full Metal Alchemist, though I'm told there's some other dude who calms down by reciting elements.**


End file.
